


Lucifer's Queen

by Bookshido



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11498385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookshido/pseuds/Bookshido
Summary: The year is 2014. Dean Winchester has been sent to the future by Zachariah to see how the world becomes if he says no to Michael. Sam has said yes to Lucifer and Dean's alter ego is the leader of a revolution. However, while living with the revolution, Dean finds a prison block with a single prisoner, locked in a chair and with every imaginable trap holding her there.





	1. Block 14

        Dean did a last visual sweep of the area and guards around what had once been the Wayne County Detention Facility. His position was flat on his stomach on a hill. Most of the building was in ruins, but the largest part of it, the main cell block where they housed the isolation cells was in the best condition he had seen any of the buildings in. The entire building was so heavily guarded that Dean thought that all of the survivor's he had met at the main camp were guarding the prison. There were three lines of fences, each covered in barbed wire from the bottom to top and at every corner of the fences was a large tall guard tower. The roof was patrolled with at least six guards, all carrying sniper rifles. There was only one way into the main compound by foot, a set of three sixteen foot tall gates, topped with barbed wire and each attached to one of the different fences. All of the gates had two guard towers on each end of it and there were two guards in each one. That had to be the same for all the other towers.   
  
        _This other me must be a real douche,_ Dean thought to himself as he studied the jail. _He lied to himself. Whatever is in there must be really valuable and or really dangerous. Knowing me, it's probably both... Maybe it's war prisoners. The way this place is guarded it might be a place to hold prisoners from Sa-Lucifer's camp._  
  
        Dean put down the binoculars and studied the building with his normal eyesight. This would be the toughest break in job yet. It wasn't like he could walk in through the front gate... Dean then realized how he could get into this Alcatraz with minimal issues. He looked just like the leader of the revolution. He could walk in the front door. That was sort of surprising, but a nice change from sneaking in the back.  
          
        Dean crawled out from under the bush he had been hiding under and got to his feet with a huff. Brushing dirt and leaves off his ancient leather jacket, he hoped that he looked presentably like his older self. Setting himself at a confident stride and pace, Dean headed down the hill towards the jail.   
  
        It was a short walk from the hill to the jail and Dean saluted to the men at the first guard tower as he approached.   
  
        "Hello-Ah! What the hell?" he said going from cheerful to painful in less than a second as a loud clicking noise followed a bright white light in his eyes. While he had been greeting them, the guards had turned on an enormous light to show who he was and as a bonus, blind him and seemingly scald his eyeballs.   
  
        "Oh, sorry Dean," a woman's voice yelled as the light shut off with a small boom. "Didn't know it was you."  
  
        "Yeah, I couldn't tell," he muttered, blinking painfully to try and clear the red and white blotches from his eyes.  As his eyesight began to clear, red spinning lights, like that of an alarm system, began going off. A loud alarm let out a screech that made Dean's hands fly up to his ears.   
  
        "Clear!" a loud male voice shouted over the alarm as a huge creaking sound began and Dean looked up to see one side of the huge first gate opening up with just barely enough room to let a single person in. Dean took his hands off his ears and went through it. Almost as soon as he was through, the gate creaked shut and the alarms shut off. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and began heading towards the next gate. As he walked, a group of three people ran over to him in a sort of military gait. Dean stopped in his tracks when they approached him and the first one saluted.   
  
        "Sir," the guard said in a strangely familiar female voice. It was both friendly and irritated, but all business. "Glad to see you back again today. Good to see that the new radio system test worked."  
  
        "Uh, yeah, it did," Dean said, forcing a smile on his face. "So, uh, any issues?"  
  
        The guard shook their head. "No changes beyond the usual."  
  
        Dean nodded in agreement even though he had no idea what this person was talking about.   
  
        "I presume your back for another round of questioning?" the guard asked curiously.   
  
        "Uh, yes," Dean said, seizing the opportunity to make up an alibi. "Yes, yes I am."  
  
        "Alright," the guard said with a shrug, then began to walk away with the other two on her heels. "But I doubt this time will work any way as well as all the other times before."  
  
        "Wait!" Dean yelled, jogging a bit closer to her as she walked. The guard stopped and turned around, obviously irritated by his lack of understanding.  
  
        "Yes?" she asked in a slightly sarcastic voice.  
  
        Dean smiled at her awkwardly. "I might have forgotten how to get in."  
  
        The guard sighed angrily and began marching towards a small human sized door that Dean hadn't seen before after dismissing the other two guards. "Since our all powerful leader seems to have lost his mind, I obviously have to babysit him."  
  
        Dean followed her closely, wanting to hit himself for not being quicker with an excuse. The guard unlocked the human sized door with three different keys from her belt loop and then pushed it open with over exaggerated motions. She gestured for Dean to enter and he did, not wanting to test her abilities with the gun on her hip.   
  
        The guard shut and locked the door behind her before jogging past Dean to the third gate, which also had a human sized door. Pulling up three different keys from the first door, she unlocked this one much quicker and pushed it with more urgency.   
  
        "Hurry up," she snapped when Dean didn't immediately run forward to go through the gate. Dean started a bit and hurried through. As soon as she entered the gate herself, the guard slammed the door shut and began running for the front door of the prison.  
  
        It was the original door from it's days as a real prison and not a stronghold and when it slid open to let them in, Dean saw that it was six inches thick and made of solid steel. The guard breathed a huge sigh of relief and began unbuckling the chin strap of her helmet.   
  
        "Glad to be back inside," she said breathlessly, pulling off the goggles and then the main helmet. As she pulled it off, the woman shook her head and released a long think mane of almost white-blonde hair from a loose braid that had been twisted up in her helmet. Or at least half of it was. The other half of her head was shaved to the scalp and the woman smiled at Dean when she caught him staring. She had turned her head and made eye contact, revealing bright blue grey eyes that seemed to pierce Dean's soul. She was gorgeous, in a sort of punk future way.  
  
        "You've seen this enough times, Dean," she said with a slightly condescending grin that only made her hotter. "You should really consider a redesign, they're pretty stuffy."  
  
        "Yeah, uh, I'll let the other designers know," he said with a stammer. She really was a pretty girl, but what had surprised him the most was her age. She couldn't be older than twenty, which was the youngest he had seen of all of the survivors (Besides maybe the really young kids who were first generation after the apocalypse).  
  
        The girl rolled her eyes and carried her helmet under her arm as she walked. "Come on, I might as well be the monitor for you."  
  
        "Monitor?" Dean asked, walking just a few steps behind her. They were heading deeper into the prison through a hall with no windows and lit by a mismatched line of electric lamps and loose light bulbs. The string of lights and lanterns was obviously attached to a motion detector because every time they advanced further down the hall, lights in front of them turned on and the ones behind them turned off. It gave the hallway an eerie look and the shadows contorted the girl in front of him and the floor beneath them.  
  
        "Yeah, you know? Just in case she attacks you while your going in for the interrogation," the girl said with a shrug. "I don't like it as much as the next guard, but someone has to make sure that you don't kill her. She's a valuable pawn and I know how much you hate her for what she is."  
  
        Dean felt his eyes widen when the girl mentioned the whole 'Stop you from from killing her' and he tried to force a neutral look onto his face when the guard turned around. This whole prison stank of something fishy and Dean wasn't sure what it was exactly.  
  
        "Dean? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly as she shifted her helmet to the other arm. "You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
        "Oh, no, it's nothing," Dean assured her, chuckling a bit, then changing the subject. "Hey, um, what do you want me to call you?"  
  
        "What you always do," the guard said, rolling her eyes, the worry in her eyes replaced by irritation. "Novak."  
  
        "Novak," Dean repeated, recognizing the name from somewhere and trying to put her face to the name. It was right on the tip of his tongue and Dean knew that she was really important some how-  
  
        "Novak is my last name," she said in a coaxing sort of tone, breaking his thoughts off abruptly. "You know, I'm Claire Novak."  
  
        Dean's couldn't stop the look of surprise and shock when she said her name. "Claire?"  
  
        Claire Novak rolled her eyes and began walking. "This act is starting to get old, Dean," she called over her shoulder.  
  
        Dean was so shell-shocked that he only started following her again when the light's behind him began to shut off and leave him in the dark. He broke into a run, his shoes slapping on the floor of the hall with a constant 'tap-tap tap-tap' as he caught up to Claire.  
  
        "So, what do we know about the prisoners," he asked her, trying to get more information out of her about the prisoners.  
  
        Claire suddenly began laughing. It was a happy loud laugh from deep inside of her that seemed to make the lights around them grow brighter. Dean started laughing to, catching the contagious nature of her laugh. They kept walking and giggling and chuckling for the next minutes until Claire was almost in tears.  
  
        "Ah," she said, wiping at her eyes and sighing happily. "I needed a good laugh. This whole amnesia thing is pretty hilarious Dean. You know that we have only one prisoner."  
  
        Dean frowned and ran a finger across the walls of the hall while they kept walking further in. His finger came away dust covered and Dean raised his finger to his nose and recoiled a bit. It stank a bit like rotting meat and a bit like sulfur.  
  
        "We finally found something that works," Claire said happily when she looked back to see Dean recoil. "You should give Alex a day off for finding it."  
  
        "What is it?" he asked, only asking for what the substance was and why it was such a big deal, and not for the make up of it like Claire then explained to him.  
  
        "It's got sulfur, chlorine, and putrescent," Claire said, stumbling a bit on the last word, then smiling as she got it right. Claire turned back to face forward.  
  
        "Wards off shifters, vampires, and reapers," Dean muttered in surprise, wiping some of the dust from his finger to the jacket. He was deeply impressed. This Alex guy was a genius.  
  
        "Yep," Claire agreed. "That old leather notebook of your's that you left when you stormed out the last time was the real gem. Where'd you even find it?"  
  
        _Damn, her hearing's amazing,_ Dean marveled as they walked. She was very impressive. Obviously growing up in the Apocalypse had helped her develop her sense and skills as well. "Uh, it was my dad's," Dean said, answering her final question as they reached another door.  
  
        This door was a standard prison door about seven feet tall with a swinging flap on the bottom to push food in. However, the flap was welded shut and the eye slot was locked with a padlock. Claire pulled out the key ring and undid a large padlock that latched the main door knob. "Alright, I'll be heading to the camera room," Claire said as she pulled the huge door open. "Good luck. Remember, finger print for the second door, retina for the third." She then shoved him inside and shut the door behind him.  
  
        Dean sighed to himself and continued walking through the small antechamber to the second door. Instead of a doorknob, there was a square of shining metal with a hand print set into the metal. At the top of the index finger slot was an oval shaped black scanner.  
         
        _This must be the finger print for the second door that Claire was talking about,_ Dean said. He jogged over to the door and pressed his hand into the groove urgently. Nothing seemed to happen, but then Dean felt a burning sensation on the tip of his pointer finger and Dean wanted to pull his hand away as the heat increased, but he had to open the door. Finally, when Dean was about to pull it away, the hand scanner made a short chirp and the door swung open. Dean couldn't pull his hand away fast enough and massaged his finger as he walked to the next door.  
  
        This door was way more straight forward and all Dean had to do was look into a binocular like device and the door swung open without a sound.  
  
        Dean wasn't sure what he was going to see inside: a demon, a shifter, a ghost, anything they had ever hunted over the years. But nothing prepared him to see a girl chained to a chair inside of an almost exact replica of Bobby's panic room, right down to the creaking fan with a devil's trap on the metal. She was wide awake and watching Dean with hate and fear in her eyes as he stood in the doorway awkwardly. Dean stepped into the cell slowly, not wanting to tick her off. He stayed close to the edge of the room, watching her and looking for signs of being more than human.  
  
        She was a petite girl, almost gaunt from being locked up for so long and her brown hair was oily and stringy. Her clothing was a simple halter top blue gown that draped around her ankles and revealed her shoulders. The dress was splattered with purple spots, especially around the leg and chest areas, but almost no area of the gown was untouched. Dean could easily see that it was her blood. She had been very pretty once, but now scars crisscrossed her arms and shoulders and there was a long scar that went down the side of her neck, near her jugular. Her nose had obviously been broken and it was bleeding freshly as she stared at him with deep brown eyes. Her wrists were latched down to the table with leather straps and from her uncomfortable position, her legs had to be lashed to the legs of the chair as well. The metal chains crisscrossed her chest and stomach, making it impossible for any part of her, other than her head, to move in any way.  
  
        Dean had just turned to shut the door when the girl made a rasping noise that sounded like a sentence. Dean shut the door and turned around to face her.  
  
        "What was that?" he asked genuinely.  
  
        The girl looked furious now, but repeated her words. "You... aren't... him..." she said, her voice rasping.  
  
        "Uh, yeah, I am, I'm Dean Winchester," Dean said with a nervous laugh.  
  
        The girl shook her head, then leaned her head to the right. Her face had seemed to soften after his words. "Can you give me water?" she asked in the same rasp. She didn't seem very threatening now.  
  
        Dean looked to the left and saw a bucket of water with a ladle in it. He walked carefully over to it and then back over to the girl. She had been watching him with something different from hate in her eyes. It was almost... relief.  
  
     Dean awkwardly filled the ladle and held it to the girl's mouth. She drank the ladle dry eagerly and took several deep breaths before nodding for more. Dean refilled the ladle and held it to her mouth again. She drank the second one down faster than the first one and Dean kept filling the ladle until she was breathing heavily and didn't open her mouth for more. Dean set the bucket and ladle down next to the chair and watched her while she caught her breath.  
  
     "Thank you," she whispered, her voice growing in volume and strength as she spoke. "I haven't had that good of a drink since I got in here."  
  
     "Who put you in here?" Dean asked, pulling over a chair and sitting in it so he was at eye height with her.   
  
     The girl began laughing. Her laugh was cold and long and almost cruel. Unlike with Claire, Dean had no wish to join in this girl's laugh.   
  
     "You did, of course," she wheezed out through laughter, then began coughing roughly. Dean still watched her from the edge of the room. The woman recovered fairly quickly and eyed Dean carefully. "You came for answers, didn't you?"  
  
        Dean nodded, not wanting to say anything. The woman nodded and shifted a bit in her seat. "I know the cameras don't have audio. So I will tell you everything, but you have to promise me one thing."  
  
        Dean nodded carefully. "Of course."  
  
        The woman got an odd look on her face before she spoke. Dean could tell that he wasn't going to like her deal.   
  
        "In exchange for my spilling," the woman said. "You either get me out, or you shoot me."  
  
        Dean crossed his heart while lifting his right hand up. "Promise."  
  
        The woman shifted in her bonds and smiled at him. "Glad to hear we have a deal. And you need to let me out of these. I promise I'll stay in the chair, but I want out of the chains."  
  
        Dean headed over to the chair and searched for a lock.   
  
        "They're latched to the floor," the woman said loudly. "Hope you have bolt cutters."  
  
        Dean scowled and looked around the cell for a hammer. There was one on the table in the corner and he took it, began whaling on the floor chains and managed to free one set of them. Dean went to work with unwinding them and peeled away layer after layer of chains. With each layer, the woman seemed to relax even more. Dean pulled the last set of chains off with a small flourish and she stretched in her seat.   
  
        "Ah, that feels good," she said, grinning and closing her eyes. They flicked open and made eye contact with Dean. "Did you know that this is the most free I've been in three months?"  
  
        He shook his head and waited for her to start talking.  
  
        "Right to the business, are we," she said, a bit irritated, but she shrugged it off. "Alright, well, since you aren't him, I might as well tell you the basics. I'm Arcadia Hale, but... only some people call me Arc. I'm twenty seven years old and married some what happily to... well, I won't get into that now. I'm human as the day I was born and I was taken prisoner three months ago."  
  
        Dean waited for her to go on. Obviously picking up on that, Arcadia went on.   
  
        "I was taken prisoner in a raid on the stronghold I was being guarded in. My husband was a very high up in Lucifer's army and to get me was to get him in his weak spot, like every other guy," she said, a small smile on her face. "My guards were killed and here I am."  
  
        "Who was your husband?" Dean asked.   
  
        "If I told you, you would think I was crazy," Arcadia said with a small laugh.   
  
        "Try me," Dean replied, not taking his eyes from her's.   
  
        Arcadia looked away from him and bit her lip. "I-I can't."  
  
        "Do you want out of here?" Dean asked her, his volume rising. "Because if I don't get more info, I'm going to chain you right back-"  
  
        "Okay!" she yelled, cutting Dean off. She looked terrified at the prospect of telling him, but swallowed and spoke. However, she spoke so softly, Dean could hardly hear her.  
  
        "Speak up," Dean ordered, watching her with a concentrated expression.  
  
        "I said Lucifer!" she yelled at him, then shut her mouth sharply with a panicked look.


	2. First Impressions

  "Lucifer?" Dean asked in disbelief, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
        Arcadia nodded, never making eye contact with him.  
  
        "So that's why you were taken and why there are traps everywhere," Dean said quietly. Now he knew why the other him had been so violent to her. She had been dragging his brother to the abyss for so long.  
  
        "I'm not a demon," Arcadia said sharply. "You, well, the other you, he blessed the water I just chugged before soaking me with it last week. But he never knew about Luci-Sa-Lucifer."  
  
        Dean began eyeing her suspiciously when she stumbled over the two names. Something wasn't adding up here. Why would Lucifer marry a human, and why would she nearly say Sam's name?  
  
        "He really didn't," she pleaded, obviously thinking that he was going to either hurt her or lock her up again. "I swear, he didn't."  
  
        Dean still didn't say anything, just looked over her. She would have been Sammy's type... But that still didn't add up, especially if he had become a vessel while they were dating or married. He'd seen what had happened to Castiel's vessel after letting the angel in. Lucifer would have made a power match up to ensure his rule and influence. Probably with Meg or another demon.  
  
        "How did you even meet Lucifer?" he asked, his voice dark and quiet. It was almost a threat and the woman flinched as he spoke.   
  
        "It was about four years ago," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "I was living in Detroit when it happened. The apocalypse, I mean. I remember the details of that first day so well. The whole world shook that day."

* * *

 **November 16th, 2010**  
  
 **Detroit, Michigan, The United States**  
  
 **10:15 AM**  
  
        Arcadia was late to work. Again. However, this was purposeful and she had a wide smile as she walked up the sidewalk towards the door of the pizza place where she worked, aptly named the Pizza Place.  If this didn't get her fired, nothing would. Working at that pizza place in the quaint shopping areas just outside downtown was horrible. The other staff members were rude to her, the pay was terrible (but livable), and the pizza sucked besides that. She always felt embarrassed to take her family there and use the employee discount. She knew they felt bad for her too, though no one wanted to say it to her face. She was ready to hand in her resignation, but the damn manager had given her a pay raise the day she walked in with the letter tucked into her purse.  
  
        However, when Arcadia reached the front door, it was locked tight and none of the lights were on. She grabbed the pull handle and yanked on it with as much force as she could put behind it and when it still didn't open, she scowled and began heading back the way she had come. On her way, she slammed shoulders with a tall man, who was walking briskly down the street. Scowling after him when she was clear of him, she saw the man watching her and the other, shorter man beside him moving in an almost run next to the first man she slammed. Scowling to herself, Arcadia continued moving.  
  
 **10:30 AM**  
  
        Arcadia had driven home with hardly any issues and unlocked the door to her townhouse with a sigh. Shrugging off her coat, she headed to her couch and snatched her TV's remote from the kitchen counter. She flopped down with a sigh and turned on the TV. It was set to a news channel she had been watching the night before. It was a news broadcast and was flashing a breaking news icon across the bottom of the screen. The reporter was a pretty young women with blonde hair and slightly tanned skin in a bright green dress. She was a pretty good newscaster, but the only issue was her voice. It was very high pitched and she tended to pause a lot between sentences. Every word made Arcadia wince, but the news was really important, so she ignored her instincts.  
  
        "And as you can see behind me, these are the remains of Fisher Body Plant 21. In an apparent gas explosion today, the entire factory went up in flames and the building then collapsed, killing the single security guard who was inside at the time," the reporter said, her bright dress framed by rising black smoke across the skyline behind her. The factory was just a huge crumble of cement and thick black smoke was still rising from the ruins despite no sign of a fire. "This factory has been scheduled for demolishing since 1985, but continuing protests from city historians have prevented the land the ruin sat on to be re-purposed," the reported explained. "Although no news crews have been allowed any closer to the explosion site, from this vantage point, it looks as though a large bomb went off, rather than a gas explosion. DFD fire fighters are about to approach the scene and begin to research the reasons behind the explosions. Oh my! There seems to have been a survivor!"  
  
        The reporter gestured for the camera man to zoom in on the single person pulling themselves out of the cement. The reporter began talking again. "Stay tuned for more information-" The reporter's voice was abruptly cut off as the survivor seemed to throw a fire fighter away from him. The two reporters (The camera guy and the anchor) ran towards the police line, but a huge chunk of cement soared towards the camera and the TV satellite connection went dead.  
  
 **10:33 AM**  
  
        Arcadia frowned and smacked her remote twice before attempting to turn on the satellite again. It didn't respond and she saw that her DVR box had gone completely dead. Growling in frustration, she threw the remote across the room, right as the TV box came back on. Rolling her eyes, she was about to get up and get the remote, but what was going on on screen caught her attention.  
  
        The camera guy was running, fast. The whole camera was bouncing and you could hear him breathing.  
  
        "He killed Kristie," he kept saying to himself, obviously choked up. "He killed Kristie..."  
  
        Suddenly, the guard made a choking noise and toppled forward. As he fell, the viewers could see his shadow falling with him, with what looked like a pole sticking out of his back. Arcadia gasped and covered her mouth in shock. The camera hit the ground with him, and, surprisingly, did not crack. Footsteps came running up to the camera and slowed. Whoever it was, they were tall or had a long stride. The camera lifted from the ground and a large calloused hand covered the lens gently. The camera seemed to spin around chaotically and there was soft humphs as the same hands fumbled around, looking for something. As the person grunted happily and stopped the live stream, there was a split second flash of someone's face.  
  
        Arcadia had been watching the live stream with morbid fascination and she felt her eyes widen when the face was shown. Fumbling with the remote as the image of the guy's face froze on her TV. Clicking the pause button, she stared at the face. It was bruised, bloody, an obviously broken nose and a strong chin. No discernible eye color could be seen, but long brown hair (For a man) streamed out over the lens. The hair was dust covered and slightly stringy. On any other occasion, she would have found this guy attractive, but she had the hinting suspicion that he was the guy who killed the two reporters and attacked the fire fighters.  
  
        Shivering to herself, Arcadia hit the play button and watched as the static following shifted to the main news studio. They were looking shaken and terrified as they sat in their chairs with their fancy clothing.  
  
        "Well, as always, we will have a constant stream of information for everyone with the breaking news," the male anchor said with a shudder. A live stream from a helicopter's view point appeared on the screen, and as the audio took a few seconds to come on, Arcadia could clearly hear the female reporter sobbing and the male one retching violently. The helicopter pilot picked up the lag in broadcast almost immediately and began narrating the camera feed.  
  
        "As you can see, I am approaching ground zero," he said. The explosion site looked like a comet had crashed into it and then stayed put. "The police haven't been able to get further than a mile to the crash site without sustaining casualties. So far, the death toll is seventeen police officers, twenty reporters and camera men, and eight people with dangerous injuries."

 **10:45 AM**  
          
        Arcadia winced and muted the TV while heading to the kitchen. For the first time in months, she climbed up on her counter and opened the highest up cabinet. Pulling out a glass bottle filled with amber liquid, she carefully climbed back down and grabbed a glass. She chucked a few ice cubes into it and popped the cork of the bottle. Arcadia poured the liquid into the cup and nearly slammed the bottle back down as she lifted the glass to her lips. Taking her first drink of alcohol in three months, she swallowed the liquid courage and grabbed her cell phone. She dialed her mom's number and frowned when she only heard a dial tone. Muttering curses, she looked at the screen of her phone and winced when there was no service.  
  
        A flash of color jumped off her TV and her head whipped around to see a huge fireball erupting across the live feed.  
          
 **10:57 AM**  
  
        She gasped and covered her mouth with one hand when she saw some of the wreckage from the now destroyed helicopter falling with the camera. Holding back bile, Arcadia choked down more whiskey and tried to block out the images. Not being able to, she shut off the TV and set the remote back on the counter.  
  
         _The phone's are down, the news can't get any information, what else can we go to?_  she asked herself, then remembered the radio. Fumbling with her phone again, Arcadia turned on her iHeart Radio app and tuned it to a local station with volume all the way up.  
  
        "Hello again listeners," a voice said, nervous and shaking. "As everyone knows by now, the news can't get any information to viewers because the maniac rampaging through Detroit is destroying their helicopters and killing on ground reporters. Last death toll said that one hundred people were now dead by maniac related causes. There no longer seems to be one threat, there seems to be a gang of super-powered people attacking the city of Detroit. They have been working their way towards the Downtown area of the city in a rampage that reminds this speaker of the attack on Atlanta in the Civil War or the Purge. The White House has given a set of recommendations for concerned and panicked citizens to follow to ensure that emergency services can help as many people as possible while also rallying the National Guard. Number one: stay in your home or place of business. Keep traffic to a minimum. This will ease all traffic. If you must travel, travel by foot. Number two: do not swarm the grocery stores or attack other places of necessary business. This will cause more issues to require emergency vehicles for. Number three: Don't-"  
  
 **11:03 AM**  
  
        Arcadia groaned as the radio cut out, and her phone's battery died completely. Taking another sip of her drink, she walked up the stairs to her bedroom. Fumbling a bit with the plug, she plugged it in and headed back downstairs. The living room and kitchen were surprisingly dark and when Arcadia looked outside, the sky was starting to darken. She bustled around the kitchen and made herself a quick can of soup in the microwave. Of all of the things to go out in the city, at least it wasn't the power.  
  
 **11:55 AM**  
  
        Feeling a bit buzzed and starting to have a small headache from the whiskey, Arcadia finished her soup and decided to take a nap to sleep off the alcohol. She muttered a small cuss and put the whiskey glass down on the counter before heading to the front door. It was locked securely and so were all the windows (She even checked the second floor ones). Sneaking into her bedroom, she quietly grabbed a golf club and headed back downstairs to check the back door and all of the other windows. Since the back door was glass, Arcadia had recently gotten a security sliding bar installed to prevent break ins. All she had to do to protect her back door was to simply press a button.  She pulled out a few blankets and arranged them on the couch like a nest as the security slide clicked into place. Satisfied that she could now sleep in peace, Arcadia collapsed into the blankets with a sigh. Within minutes she was asleep.

* * *

 **6:13 PM**  
  
        Arcadia was woken by her doorbell, a strange sound in the now silent home. She rubbed at her eyes to try and clear her eyes of the blurriness. Her drunkenness seemed to be gone, so she got up slowly and headed to the door. It rang again, more urgently and she suddenly was pissed off.  
  
        "I'm coming," she yelled as she approached the door. "Knock it off..." She trailed off as she approached the door and opened it without even looking through the peep hole. A man was standing there, looking like he'd been through hell and back.  
  
 **6:17 PM**  
  
        The guy was tall, had to be at least six feet tall, with longer brown hair and a muscular build that would normally have made Arcadia a bit nervous for her own safety. He was horribly beat up, with a bleeding nose and cuts and scratches across his cheeks and face that seemed to mingle with splatters of mud and smears of general grime. The man's clothes were covered in what looked like chalk and blood was splattered across them in strange patterns. Despite the dirty state of the clothes, none of the clothes were ripped or destroyed. He was breathing heavily and looked like he was about to pass out.  
  
        "Can I- can I come inside," he asked, stumbling over the words slightly.  
  
        Arcadia had been watching him in partial shock and slowly opened the door more than just having her head sticking out. "What happened to you?"  
  
        He chuckled lowly and swallowed before speaking. He looked very nervous, more nervous than her. "I've been... fighting. With one of the gang members. He tried to kill me. I think he stabbed me..." The man began to look down at his side, where a hand was pressing his shirt to his skin. It looked like blood was leaking through his fingers.  
  
        Gasping, Arcadia let the man inside, leading him to the nearest bathroom. She looked frantically around for a place to put him and decided on the the bathtub. That would make clean up easy. "Stay here," she said after helping him into the bathtub. "I'll be right back with some first aid equipment." She bolted to her kitchen and scrambled around, looking for the small first aid kit that her father had given her when she first moved in. Finally finding it under the sink and behind the dish soap, she bolted back to the bathroom to find the man sitting up in the tub and pulling up part of his shirt to check the place where a large blood stain remained. He was very absorbed in it that he only looked up when she dropped the first aid kit in surprise.  
  
 **6:22 PM**  
  
        "How the hell?" she asked breathlessly. The man dropped the shirt and had a panicked look on his face. He obviously hadn't seen her or realized she was watching him. "You were stabbed," she protested as he stood and climbed out of the bathtub, a pleading look on his face.  
  
        "Please, don't freak out," he told her, holding his hands up in sort of surrender.  
  
        "I already am," she yelled at him, making him wince and step back away from her. "How the hell did you do that? Were you faking it this whole time? Just to get inside my house? Ugh, I feel like an idiot..." She trailed off and watched the man with wary eyes, unsure of what he was going to do next.  
  
        "It's not like that," the man insisted. "I was stabbed. Look, you can see the mark in my shirt"-He showed her the hole in his t-shirt and jacket. Blood stains were still drying around the mark-"And here's the knife"-he handed it to her and she nearly dropped it when she saw that it had blood on the handle. He watched her face, waiting for her to believe him. Even with this, she still couldn't see how this happened.  
  
        "Then how are you healed," Arcadia asked him, handing him the blade handle-first against her better judgment. He took the knife and put it into a sheath he pulled from his pocket without a word.  
  
        "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," he told her, setting the knife down on the counter. Arcadia glanced quickly between the knife and the man. She was still extremely nervous about this man, whoever he was.  
  
        Finally deciding to take her chances, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a challenging look. "Tell me," she said, only barely worried about what he might say to her.  
  
        The man sighed and turned away from her, running a hand through his long hair. Arcadia stayed where she was in the same position.  
  
        "Can we go to your living room?" he asked her, turning back around after a minute or so.  
  
        Arcadia didn't say anything to him, just stepped back from the door and gestured for him to go in front of her. He exited the bathroom and walked down the hall, slowly rubbing his right palm with his left thumb. It was a strange gesture, but it seemed to calm him down slightly. Arcadia still watched him and stayed standing when he went and sat down on her couch. She leaned on the wall and gestured for the man to start talking. She was tempted to grab a blanket from the couch to warm herself up, but she was okay despite her many goosebumps.  
  
        The man saw her shiver and looked over at the fireplace that she hadn't ever used. "Do you mind?" he asked her carefully.  
  
        Arcadia shrugged and rubbed her forearms in an attempt to heat them up. The man took a deep breath and flicked his hand towards the fire place. Flames burst out of the fake logs as the gas turned on and heat began to spread across the whole room. The man winced for a moment, then scrunched up his eyebrows, pushing the pain away. Arcadia glanced between the man and the fireplace, her mouth barely open in surprise. The man smiled at her, but sobered up when he saw how surprised she was.  
  
        "How the hell did you do that?" Arcadia asked, her voice barely higher than a whisper.  
  
        "I'd guess that I should start at the beginning," he said, looking at the ground. "It's the only way I can really explain it."


	3. Sam's Story (Or 'My Life Sucks')

    "Hold on. Sam stumbles in, beat up and busted, and you just let him in?" Dean asked in disbelief. "Even if you felt like you could trust him, why the hell would you do that?"  
  
        Arcadia glared at him and continued speaking, a bit pissed at him. "It was the end of the world. He said that the gang jumped him. I had a golf club and he had nothing. I was certain I could take him. Besides, I didn't know how tall he was then."

* * *

        "My name is Sam Winchester,"  ~~the man~~  Sam said, still rubbing his hand as he watched the fire flicker in the fireplace. "I was born in 1983 in a small town in Kansas. Lawrence, if you've ever heard of it. Most people haven't."  
  
        Even though he wasn't looking at her, Arcadia shook her head. Sam continued, not noticing her movement.  
  
        "When I was six months old, my mom was killed by a demon who then blew up our house. May dad and older brother Dean, who was four at the time, managed to get out, but we were left with hardly anything. My whole life changed that night," Sam said, seeming to slip off into his memories. "My dad became obsessed with hunting down anything supernatural and trying to find that demon so he could have his revenge. We always moved. I changed schools at least once every month. I never really made friends. But I always had good grades. Dean never got his GED, I graduated as Valedictorian.  
  
        "I was never as close to Dad as Dean was. They both remembered Mom, I never knew her. My dad, John, he was a soldier in Vietnam. He raised my brother and I to be warriors. Weapons against the forces of evil and lights in the darkness. Dean always said, 'Saving people, hunting things, the family business'. Saving people was probably the only good thing about the life we lived. Dean embraced it. I didn't. He loved the life. He still does. A new town every week, beautiful women falling into his path, alcohol and sex, being the hero to countless people, he adored it. I never really saw the point and tried to push myself away. He got especially bad when he turned eighteen. That was the year things between me and my family got really bad. When I was a senior in high school, I got a full ride to Stanford. I told my dad that night, and he went ballistic. Said I didn't care about him or Dean. Said I could just go off to college and die for all he cared. We both said some horrible things that I really regret, but I left the house that night for California and never looked back.  
  
        "College was great for me. I made so many new friends, actually had stable relationships with girls who had things going for them beyond staying home with their parents. I fell in love... really deeply with a nursing major, Jessica Moore. I was going to marry her. But, four years later, Dean tracked me down, broke into my house, and tried to get me to leave with him. I refused, but then he told me why he had come. Dad had been off on a hunting trip and hadn't contacted Dean in a few days. In the hunting world, this meant something was wrong. I left with Dean, making him promise to get me back to Stanford by the end of the weekend. We tracked Dad down, but when we got there, he was already gone. We ended up hunting a Woman in White, have you ever heard of one of those? No? Well, it's basically the tormented spirit of a woman who committed suicide after finding out her husband or significant other was cheating on her. It was the first 'case' I'd worked in years and, to be perfectly honest, it felt amazing." Sam paused here and glanced over to look at Arcadia. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked at the ground with a small chuckle.  
  
        "What?" Arcadia asked, a little bit angry that he had started laughing.  
  
        "Nothing," he told her, looking up to make eye contact. "You're just the first person I ever told about my life."  
  
        Arcadia broke eye contact and looked at the fire. She wasn't exactly sure what to say to him. Who the hell  _would_ know what to say to someone in this situation.  
  
        Sam cleared his throat and continued. The next part seemed to be tough for him to say. "I got back to Stanford and headed to the apartment I shared with Jess. I thought she was in the shower when I got in and laid down on the bed to wait for her. I tried to go to sleep, but something dripped on me and I opened my eyes and she was on the ceiling, bleeding. She burst into flames as I screamed and Dean had to drag me out while she and the apartment burned up. This was about five years ago. Every time I see fire, I remember her..." He trailed off, then coughed. "That night, I left Stanford for good. My brother and I went after our dad, knowing that he was the only link to the demon that killed my mom and girlfriend. Of course, we didn't know it was a demon at the time. Dad told us that when we finally caught up to him about a year later. It was right around that time that some pretty strange things started happening.  
  
        "I started having visions and getting killer headaches while we were on hunts. The nightmares... they were the worst I have ever had. Even worse than the ones about Jess... Then strange almost demonic things happened. Like when I should have caught a demon disease and went nuts, I didn't have any symptoms and seemed to cure myself. Then, I sort of was locked in a closet by a psychopath and moved a huge cabinet out from in front of the door."  
  
        He looked up and was obviously embarrassed by Arcadia's look of shock at this newest revelation. "Not the kind of visions you think. I was seeing the future. Literally! Don't give me that look! I'm not crazy." He started laughing really hard, then sobered up. "They were visions of people's deaths. I could see their deaths within hours or days of it happening. The further away we were, the shorter amount of time it took for it to happen. That's how it usually went. Sometimes it varied, sometimes it didn't. But they slowed down when I was really calm or relaxed. Which explains why they came back when we ran back into our dad.  
  
        "He told us to meet him in Colorado and that he knew a way to kill the bastard that killed my mom. He told us that it was a special gun, called the Colt. It was made Samuel Colt and can kill anything supernatural. Vampires, werewolves, demons, you name it, it can take it out. The gun was mythical to all hunters and no one was sure if it really existed. But my dad knew the man who had it and we went to Colorado to track him down. We got there and he had been killed by a nest of vampires who took the gun. So we tracked them down and took the gun back. Then our dad was captured by a demon named Meg.  
  
        "She was working for the Yellow-Eyed Demon, the one who killed my mom and basically started us in the hunting business. Meg tried to make a bargain with us, our dad for the gun. We managed to sort of trick them by making a fake gun and then escaping with our dad. Unluckily, about a week later, a demon possessed a truck driver and rammed my brother's 1967 Impala with a tractor trailer and put us all in the hospital. I was hardly hurt, since I was in the back seat and the truck hit the front. Dean was put in a coma and my dad broke a few bones. Dean was on life support and we were about to take him off, but then we found out that he was still there, but a Reaper was there to take him.  
  
        "Reaper?" Arcadia asked, her mind reeling from the crazy story.  
  
        "Think Grim Reaper, but looks like a compelling person to the person their escorting," Sam explained, making eye contact as he did. "Or basically a normal human. It's just a face for them to wear over their real face, you know, no freaking out the deceased. Well, my dad made a deal with the Yellow-Eyed Demon and sacrificed himself for Dean. The demon took over the reaper's body and sent Dean back. But our dad was dead This was also the year when the visions became worse. Seeing them in the day time when I was awake." He paused there, shivering despite the warm fire was making Arcadia wish she wasn't wearing a sweater. "They haunted me constantly. Finally, we learned that demons were tracking down other special children like me. All of them were supposed to be able to rule hell when the Yellow-Eyed demon took over the earth. But demons were killing them before they could be tracked down and captured by Yellow Eyes. Then I got captured. And it was horrible. We were forced to fight to the death and... I was killed."  
  
        Arcadia gave him a disbelieving look and Sam looked at the fire. "My brother made a deal with a demon. My life, for Dean's soul. The next year was just a nightmare of trying to break the deal. He was only given a year, unlike the usual ten that demon deals usually have. We were befriended by a demon named Ruby, who had a knife that could kill demons. She helped us along the way, rebuilding the Colt, taking out demons that we couldn't exorcise, telling us the plans of a nasty demon named Lilith who was trying to kill me. Again. Then we found out that Lilith held Dean's deal. And she came to collect. Dean was killed, sent to hell and I was barely able to escape. Ruby was forced out of her vessel and back down to hell, but she took a new body, a... nice one,' Sam faltered, looking very embarrassed. " To get this over quickly," he said, very embarrassed. "She and I became close. That was when she revealed that there was a way I could take out demons without killing the vessel or reciting an exorcism."  
  
        "How the hell would you do that?" Arcadia asked, enthralled by the story, but also a bit hesitant. How the hell did he expect her to believe that all of this was happening like this?  
  
        "Remember how I had demon's blood in me and that was why I was having visions?" Sam asked, waiting for Arcadia to nod before he went on. "Well..." he said nervously, cringing. "I had to drink more of it. That amplified my powers."  
  
        "That's disgusting," Arcadia said, feeling like she was going to throw up. "Why the hell would you do that?"  
  
        "Dean was gone," Sam said with a shrug. "I could help more people, it felt right, I got addicted, I'm not completely sure why. But it helped me through a tough time in my life. I felt like I was doing what Dean would have wanted."  
  
        "He would have wanted you to drink blood to try and save some people who might not even make it anyways?" Arcadia asked in disbelief.  
  
        "That's what I thought," Sam said defensively. "For four months. That was when Dean came back."  
  
        "How..." Arcadia said, then muttered, "I don't want to know."  
  
        "An angel brought him back," Sam said, smiling weakly. "An angel named Castiel."  
  
        "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," Arcadia commented, glaring slightly at Sam.  
  
        "Well, it happened," Sam said, scowling back, then grimacing as he began to shake slightly, looking like he was going to have a seizure. "Sorry," he said quietly, bowing his head for a moment. "Anyways..."  
  
        "Hold on," Arcadia said, lifting a hand to cut him off. "So, let me get this straight: you and your brother hunt monsters."  
  
        "Okay... Go on."  
  
        "Anyways," Sam said, gesturing gently as he continued. "Castiel became a part of our lives, trying to tell Dean about my problem, without flat out telling him. We found out that Lilith was trying to free Lucifer from hell so that he could start the apocalypse. And my problem just kept getting worse. Finally, Dean found out. And I was locked in a panic room to go cold turkey. That was the weekend of my life. Besides today..." He trailed off, then got back on track. "After that, things seemed to cheer up. And we closed in on Lilith. Ruby and I went ahead to go kill her and I did, successfully. Then we found out that her death was the last seal. And then Lucifer was free."  
  
        "As in, the Lucifer?" Arcadia asked, just for clarification. "Satan?"  
  
        "Yes."  
  
        "Go on."  
  
        "Well, Dean and I split up. Not my best decision, but we made it work. I wanted out of hunting, a way to get away from the shitty life I was living. Then Lucifer showed up and told me something horrible. That he was going to posses me and take over world, because I was his one true vessel."  
  
        "What does that mean?" Arcadia asked, feeling a pit opening in her gut.  
  
        "It means that because of my family history, if Lucifer possesses me, he will be all powerful," Sam explained. "Kind of like the perfect weapon."  
  
        "Alright. And I assume you told him no?"  
  
        "I did tell him no," Sam assured her. "But he said that one day I would say yes. I tracked down Dean and I found out that he had been told that he was the true vessel of Michael. And that we were 'destined' to kill each other." Sam made the quote-on-quote motions with his fingers. "And that he refused too. Last year was completely nuts..."  
  
        "So that's why the crazy weather was going on last year," Arcadia mused, then gestured for Sam to go on.  
  
        "We found out when it was supposed to happen and actually figured out a way to win and put him back in hell. The rings of the horsemen; Death, Pestilence, War, and Famine; were the keys to Lucifer's cage. We managed to get all but one; Death's; and were able to track down Lucifer. It was actually here in Detroit and we were all ready to go. So Dean made a small deal with Death, that he would use the ring to lock Lucifer up and be ready to do anything to ensure that Lucifer was locked back up."  
  
        "And the day came, we had a plan in place, ready to go; I would say 'yes' then take control and throw Lucifer back into hell using the keys and sacrificing myself. Dean nearly didn't go through with it but I did. And... I lost control almost immediately," Sam admitted, starting to look crushed. "He was... too powerful. I couldn't hold it together. Lucifer took the keys back and gave them to a demon to guard after leaving Dean in the dust and going to a secret place nearby. He was going to prepare for Michael and his final battle. he tried to take us there, but I was able to distract him long enough to crash us into a building in Detroit. Lucifer was so angry... I thought he was going to kill me."  
  
        "Before you go on," Arcadia said, stopping him with a raised hand. "Let me get this straight.  
  
        "Alright," Sam agreed, leaning a little closer to the fire.         
  
        "You left college to go with him to find your dad, ending up with a vengeance and a dead girlfriend."  
  
        "Yes..."  
  
        "You spent the next few years living a horror novel and died twice? Then your brother went to hell and came back?"  
  
        "Yes."  
  
        "And now you expect me to believe that you are harboring Lucifer, aka Satan, in your body and you need my help to throw him out of you?"  
  
        "That was the plan, yes."  
  
        "I can't believe I let you into my house," Arcadia muttered, walking back to the kitchen. She pulled a huge knife out and went back to the living room, holding it out in front of her with one hand while the other stayed out from her side to keep her balance. "Get out," she ordered Sam, gesturing to the door with the knife.   
  
        Sam stood slowly and walked towards her, looking slightly upset. "You really don't want to do this," he told her softly, only a few steps away from her.   
  
        "Then get out of my house," she said, shaking a little, but regaining her confidence. Sam took one step forward and  
  
        "You seriously don't-" Sam said, breaking off and going almost shock still as he swallowed thickly, then smiled.  
  
        Arcadia stared at him in shock, surprised to see the hate and anger that had replaced the nervousness and genuine fear.  
  
        "Aw, look at you," he said, smiling mockingly and stepping back. "You think that you can kill me with that? Please, I chose this body for a reason. He is a master at melee fighting. You wouldn't stand a chance."  
  
        "I can still try," Arcadia said loudly, gripping the knife tighter. "You're just a nutty schizophrenic who thinks he's Lucifer. That, that trick with the fire was an illusion."  
  
        "Oh sweetie," Sam said, smiling a little wider. "You know better than that." A wave of his hand sent the knife flying from her hand and ending up stabbed into the wall on the other side of the room. Arcadia gasped and took a step back before he pinned her to the wall with a flick of the hand.  
  
        "By the way, Sammy's on a little vacation," Lucifer said, grinning at her still. "Oh, you should hear him yelling. It's hilarious, he thinks that you'll be able to get out of here before I kill you."  
  
        A woman suddenly appeared in the doorway, scowling. "There you are, we've been looking all over for you," she scolded, walking over and breaking the mood as she hugged Lucifer. "Did he take the lead and run with it?" she asked Lucifer seriously, then slapped him so hard that he stumbled and went into a kneel. His hold on Arcadia dropped and she leaned against the wall, regaining her breath.  
  
        "Don't you ever do that again!" she yelled.


	4. Calvary

        "Meg," Dean said in disgust.  
  
        "Exactly," Arcadia agreed.

* * *

        "Hello Meg," Lucifer said, a small, slightly evil smile lingering on his face as he stood and rubbed his cheek. Meg walked back to the door and started laughing before she turned around again. The animosity between them seemed to be gone as Lucifer started laughing too.  
  
        Arcadia backed up to the wall again, shocked that this entire story was real. She had always thought that it was possible, but never like this...  
  
        "Glad to see Lilith's work turned out well," Meg said, a similar smile arriving as she walked closer. "Who's the meatsuit," she asked, nodding at Arcadia.  
  
        "Just someone who the Winchester tried to go to for help," Lucifer said with a shrug, ignoring Arcadia. "I think we should get someone for her. He poured out that damn sob story to her before I could take back control."  
  
        Meg sized Arcadia up and Arcadia met her gaze with a hostile glare. Meg seemed a little surprised, but kept looking her over. "Maybe Row for her," she mused, stepping closer to Arcadia. "She's been begging to get topside for a while now." Then Meg's eyes widened and she stepped back a few steps.  
  
        "What is it?" he asked, looking very irritated. "Why aren't you calling Rowena up?"  
  
        "May I be blunt?" Meg asked sharply.  
  
        He gestured with a hand for her to go on.  
  
        "How can you be so blind," Meg asked, sounding irritated. She almost seemed furious, but about his actions.  
  
        "What are you talking about?" Lucifer asked, starting to look pissed too.  
  
        "Don't you know who this is?" Meg asked, pointing at Arcadia.  
  
        "Um, can I-" Arcadia said, but Sam cut her with a wave of his hand. As in cut her voice off.  
  
        "No, I don't know anything more than what Sam knows," Lucifer said, starting to freak Arcadia out even more than he had already.  
  
        "I am shocked that you can't see the Grace," Meg snapped, pointing at Arcadia again and gesturing at her whole body.  
  
        Lucifer turned to face Arcadia and he stared at her, looking confused, but focused on trying to see this 'Grace'. As his eyes traveled across her body, searching for the 'Grace', his eyes seemed to soften and become almost caring. Then, after the search, his eyes hardened. He had never even looked up at her face the whole time.  
  
        "I can't see it," he pronounced curtly. "Call Rowena."  
  
        "You asshole," Meg muttered, walking over to Arcadia and raising one hand next to her head. "Look here," she directed. "And then tell me what you think."  
  
        Slowly, Lucifer made eye contact with Arcadia and he must have seen something different, because his eyes were filled with genuine shock and that what seemed to be anger.  
  
        "You," he said quietly, darkly, like a threat. Lucifer turned away from Arcadia and headed for the door. Lucifer paused the doorway, not looking back at them. "Meg, take her to the stronghold. Put a guard on her. No one is to talk to her until I return."  
  
        Meg bowed her head in agreement and with was sounded like a rustling of feathers, Lucifer vanished. Meg turned to Arcadia with a small smile. "Well then Sophia, let's get you to the stronghold," she said cheerfully.  
  
        "No, I'm not Sophia," Arcadia told her, slowly walking over to get her shoes. "I'm Arcadia."  
  
        "Really?" Mag asked, seeming genuinely confused, then shrugged and began heading for the door. "Grab only a few things, we can get you anything you might need after we get to the stronghold."  
  
        Arcadia nodded and grabbed her purse and slid on a pair of flip-flops rather than a pair of sneakers. Meg was waiting at the door and held out her hand to Arcadia. Seeing the look on Arcadia's face, Meg began explaining. "I can transport myself and only one person a short distance. Sometimes it works. Well, almost never, but Luci is lending me some power."  
  
        "Sometimes it works?" Arcadia asked nervously.  
  
        "Usually," Meg corrected, forcefully taking her hand. "Hold on tight," she warned, smiling wickedly at Arcadia and pushing off from the ground. Arcadia couldn't help but shriek as they were lifted off the ground and then landed with a small thump in front of a large, dilapidated building. Two men were standing the front doors and snapped to attention when they noticed Meg.   
  
        "Did you find him?" the one on the right asked, ignoring Arcadia for a moment before letting his gaze go right over her and back to Meg.  
  
        "Yeah, ended up in the suburbs of Detroit," Meg explained, stepping forward and pulling Arcadia with her. "He wants this one"-she shoved Arcadia forward but still held her arm-"locked up without talking to anyone until he gets back."  
  
        The man who hadn't spoken watched Arcadia quietly, then blinked and revealed pitch black eyes. Arcadia jumped and the man started laughing as he blinked again and returned them to normal. "Afraid of the dark, are we?" he asked her mockingly.  
  
        "Knock it off, Richard," Meg snapped, surprising Arcadia. She had never expected that Meg of all people would stand up for her. "You know that the boss wants her to be sane when he sees her again."  
  
        "But it gets so boring standing guard," Richard complained, rolling his eyes a bit. "You know you like to mess with humans when you get the chance."  
  
        "Yes, but I don't violate the head honcho's rules," Meg retorted, walking past them and to the main door, trailing Arcadia behind her. She flicked her hand and opened the door, not stopping her pace as they entered the building.  
  
        Inside, it looked like a military planning base that was about the size of half a football field, filled with people talking quietly over maps and dioramas of various places. Almost as soon as Meg entered, the tension in the room seemed to rise and she seemed to be more in her own element as they moved to the center of the huge room.  
  
        "Hey, I'm going to be right back," Meg said in Arcadia's ear loudly, trying to be heard over several arguments that had just started up. "Don't move!" Before Arcadia could reply, Meg had vanished into the crowd, forcing her way over to a tight knit group that was talking so softly that there was no way they could hear each other.   
  
        Waiting for Meg soon became dull, and Arcadia began to listen in on the arguments, trying to piece together the discussions over the yelling and arguing of everyone else. The loudest and easiest to hear discussion was from the back wall of the room, where an enormous map of the world was spread out and major cities were covered in red push pins. A crowd of about ten people were gathered around it, talking loudly about the best cities in the world that would create the most panic. As far as Arcadia could tell, the number one places that seemed to be on the table for the discussion were Moscow and Washington D.C., but the person putting forward the argument for London was making a compelling case. She kept listening in, smiling to herself whenever a good point was brought up and cringing when someone walked into a trap set by the other debaters. Arcadia was so absorbed in the conversation that she didn't even notice Meg making her way through the crowd again until Meg grabbed her arm to get her attention.  
  
        "Hey, meatsuit," she said in greeting, looking a bit rushed and frustrated. "We gotta go."  
  
        "Hey, Meg," she asked, turning to face Meg properly. "What is this place?"  
  
        "It's our base of operations," Meg explained shortly, grabbing her wrist and starting to walk back through the crowd. "Your room is ready and I'm not going to wait."  
  
        "Okay," Arcadia said, letting herself be pulled through the crowd by Meg. She stumbled only once or twice, but kept up fairly well, earning a look of praise from Meg when they reached the steps on the other side of the room.   
  
        "Go to the top," she instructed, letting go of Arcadia and crossing her arms over her chest. "Your temporary room is the locked door at the end of the hallway. Here's the key," Meg said, uncrossing her arms to reach into her jacket pocket and fish out a standard house key and hand it to Arcadia. "Go in there, lock the door and don't come out of there at all. No matter what you hear."  
  
        "What if I have to go to the bathroom or if I'm hungry," Arcadia pointed out, putting the key in her pocket and stepping up onto the first step.   
  
        "There's a stocked fridge and a nice bathroom," Meg assured her. "And yes, you can sleep on the couch if you have to. I'll be down here, and you aren't allowed to talk to anyone, so if something happens, just scream as loud as you can and maybe I'll pop in to check on you."  
  
        "Um, thanks," Arcadia said, rolling her eyes and heading up the stairs. None of the doors she passed when she started down the hallway were open and no noise could be heard from within as she passed. All of the doors were painted a light green, a stark contrast from the door at the end of the hallway, which was just the dark wood, almost a mahogany. She pulled out the key and unlocked the brass handle, letting herself inside. Once the door closed behind her, she locked it again and walked further in.  
  
        The room was a fairly nice office with a great view over the city. A large, fancy desk with a desktop computer and a potted plant The couch was in the middle of the room and the fridge Meg mentioned was a mini one that acted as an end table. Stepping around it and going to the window, she watched the skyline, trying to pin point where they were. The building was only two stories, so they had to be on a hill.  
          
        "But there aren't any hills in Detroit," Arcadia muttered, peering out the window more as she tried to figure out what was going on. "How does this work..."  
  
        "That's a spell," a male voice she didn't recognize said behind her making her turn around sharply.  
  
        A tall man with darker skin, seeming to be Hispanic, and wearing a casual suit was suddenly sitting on the couch. "Hello Arcadia," he greeted with a smile and a wave.  
  
        "Um, who are you?" Arcadia asked. "And how did you get in here? I locked the door after me."  
  
        "Doors have no meaning to Guardians," the man said simply, watching her.   
  
        "Guardians?" Arcadia asked, not moving from her position by the window.  
  
        "You humans have always known about us, but by a different name," he said, crossing a knee over the other and resting his clasped palms on it as he watched her. "You call us Guardian Angels, set out to ensure normal people's safety. However, we are supposed to protect only the destined vessels and those who small lives have greater meaning."  
  
        "Okay..." Arcadia said, confused. "Sam mentioned something about a vessel..."  
  
        "We do not protect vessels of the damned," the man said with a small eye roll. "To protect him was to further the apocalypse."  
  
        "Okay, so you're saying that I'm a vessel?" Arcadia said, having a feeling that she was right.  
  
        "Yes," the man agreed, still watching her with that same peaceful smile. "And I have been assigned by my garrison to watch over you in your endeavors."  
          
        "Like a military garrison?" Arcadia asked, thinking that that was what it meant.  
  
        "Yes, but we watch over the Earth and the humans on it," he said.  
  
        "Won't Lucifer know that you're here?" she asked, glancing around the .  
  
        "No, I have protection against him from his brother, Zaphkiel," the man said, not even blinking.  
  
        "Who are you?" Arcadia asked.  
  
        "I am Phanuel, an angel of the lord," the man said. "I am known as 'he who understands what is revealed'."  
  
        "Nice," Arcadia said, trying to be casual and make some chatting conversation. "Is it alright that I call you Phan?"  
  
        "If you wish," Phanuel said. "But this vessel's name is Will if you would prefer that."  
  
        "Now, there are a few things we need to discuss," Phanuel said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a scroll before she could reply. With a flourish and a flick of the wrist, the scroll unrolled to a paper about three feet long and covered in swirling writing.  
  
        "These are the rules of my help and guardianship," Phanuel said, turning it around and starting to read it aloud. "I can only guard you and help you with your permission," he read, glancing up at her for her nod, which she gave. "I can only appear to you and you only, no one else can see me besides you."  
  
        "Cool with that," Arcadia agreed.  
  
        He glanced at Arcadia, but shrugged and went on. "I can follow you at will, but will not invade your privacy during the following moments: bathing, use of the restroom, dressing yourself, fornication-"  
  
        Arcadia cut him off there with a wince and a nod. "Just skip that part please," she asked, wondering what the hell came after that on the list.  
  
        "I will be allowed to heal any wound at your permission," he said.  
  
        "That's good."  
  
        "Fine. I am able to move into defense against any figure who you believe is going to harm you mentally, physically, and emotionally," Phanuel said, reading further down the list. "No matter who they may be."  
  
        "Alright," Arcadia said.  
  
        "And I am to stop any form of self-harm or attempt to remove yourself from the Earth in whatever way I see fit at the time," Phanuel finished. "Including, but not limited to, resurrection, healing, and temporary possession."  
  
        "I agree to it all," Arcadia said with a shrug and walked over to take the paper from him. "Uh, do you have a pen?" she asked Phanuel when she saw a line at the bottom for her to sign at.  
          
        "This is not the kind of contract that can be signed in ink," he said, almost smiling.  
  
        "Oh."  
  
        "Hand please," Phanuel said, holding out his hand to her.  
  
        Arcadia stepped closer to him and put her hand in his. It was warm, unlike the cold she had expected, a warm like a big hug and she glanced from the hand to Phanuel as he pulled out a small knife that was wickedly sharp.  
  
        "A blood contract?" Arcadia asked in surprise, trying to pull her hand back.  
  
        But Phanuel's grip was strong and he took the knife in his other hand, looking for the point to cut with the look of a surgeon. Arcadia looked away and clenched her teeth and shut her eyes in preparation for the cut. For a moment, she thought he had already done it and she just hadn't felt anything, but when a red hot pain streaked up her arm, she knew. She couldn't help but gasp and when Phanuel handed her the contract, she could barely lift her hand to the paper to press the cut to it to sign it.  
  
        After a few seconds, Phanuel pulled her hand away and placed his hand over the cut on her hand, closing his eyes and starting to hum. A light white light shined between his fingers and the pain began to subside in her hand. When the light died and he pulled his hand away, her hand was back to normal with no sign of a scar.   
  
        "Wow, thanks," Arcadia said, tracing her finger over the place where it used to be.  
  
        "It was a simple trick," Phanuel said with a shrug as he stood. "All angels can preform such a meager task."  
  
        Arcadia took a step back and looked at Phan with a new respect. Phan brushed his hands together and smiled at her as he rolled up the scroll that was now smeared with her blood.   
  
        "I must be off," he said, throwing the scroll in the air and snapping his fingers. The scroll vanished and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I can feel your captor coming and he doesn't take too well to angels. Which is quite ironic, considering what he is."  
  
        "When can you be back," Arcadia asked, watching Phan curiously.  
  
        "As soon as you call," he told her, smiling slightly. "And now, I bid you adieu." A small noise like fabric rippling in a breeze crossed the room and Phanuel vanished.  
  
        And not a moment too soon.  
  
        Within a minute of the guardian angel vanishing, a familiar face appeared, standing in the doorway and looking like he had just come back from hell.


	5. This Is It

        "He probably  _was_  in Hell," Dean muttered.  
  
        Arcadia snorted.

* * *

        "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," Lucifer said, uncrossing his arms and smiling at her as he pointed at a splatter of blood on his coat. "I had a bit of business to take care of." He smiled a little wider, obviously waiting for her to start laughing. When she didn't, the smile fell and he almost started scowling.  
  
        "Where  _have_  you been hiding," he asked, walking to the desk and pouring some scotch from a glass decanter sitting there. Lucifer leaned back on the desk and looked at her over the rim of the glass as he sipped.  
  
        "I tried to find you," Lucifer said, setting the glass down and walking over to Arcadia, who didn't meet his eyes. Lucifer reached out gently and lifted her chin up so he could make eye contact. "As soon as I was out, I went looking."  
  
        "You knew that this would happen one day," he whispered drawing closer until they were almost parallel to each other and only inches apart. "Didn't you, you clever girl..." Lucifer started smiling again, as he leaned a little closer than he already was.  
  
         _He's going to kiss me,_  Arcadia realized in horror as she saw what could only be described as lust in his eyes. She was a bit stunned that this was happening, so she didn't move at all until he actually did it.  
  
        His lips had barely brushed her's when Arcadia yanked herself free and backed away from him. "What the hell?" she shouted, staring at him in shock and anger.  
  
        Lucifer looked just as shocked as Arcadia, but he looked so much more hurt than she was. "Sophia," Lucifer asked quietly, looking like a puppy she had just kicked. "What's wrong?"  
  
        "Why is everyone calling me that?" she yelled back at him, turning away and starting to pace. "I'm not Sophia, whoever the hell that is."  
  
        "You..." he said, watching her, the shock fading to curiosity and interest. "You don't know who Sophia is?"  
  
        Arcadia shook her head, backing towards the bathroom slowly. Lucifer saw that and smirked at her. With a flick of his hand, the bathroom door slammed shut and left her with no escape from the room with Lucifer in it.  
  
        "Then I guess I will have to catch you up," he said, walking a little closer, but still keeping his distance from her. "Sophia was the oldest seraph, and yet was not an archangel," he explained. "She exerted dominion over knowledge and learning. Naturally, she and I became friends. We were nothing more than friends, if not very devout friends, and that was how we were. We would have died for each other and were practically inseparable."  
  
        "Sounds like it was a lot more than a friendship," Arcadia muttered.  
  
        Lucifer nodded in agreement. "Yes, it soon became more than a friendship."  
  
        "So how am I a part of this?" Arcadia asked, crossing her arms. "Just track down Sophia, don't draw me into this. And honestly, it's kind of creepy if your trying to have me replace her..."  
  
        Lucifer started laughing. "Oh, no, that's not the idea."  
  
        "Then what is?" Arcadia asked with a scowl.  
  
        "You are her vessel," Lucifer said, studying Arcadia for her reaction.  
  
        "So what happened to Sam will happen to me?" Arcadia asked, somewhat disgusted.  
  
        "No, no, but it is the same principle," Lucifer explained, walking back over to the desk and picking up the drink again. "You have to make an open declaration that you will let her in and she will join you. Like taking a long nap for most, though Sam's been putting up quite the fight."  
  
        "And if I never say yes?" Arcadia asked.  
  
        "Well, she can ask for another human to become her vessel," Lucifer mused, sipping the scotch. "But it will decompose on her. Slowly and painfully."  
  
        Arcadia winced. "And the person whose body she took over?" she asked, thinking that she knew the answer already.   
  
        "Dead, of course."  
  
        Arcadia grimaced, expecting that.   
  
        Lucifer set down the glass and stared at her, leaning on the desk with his hands curled around the edge of it, giving him a strange rebellious look that looked all to comfortable with him.   
  
        They stayed that way, in a silent stand off, waiting for each other to make the first move. Although Arcadia was able to keep eye contact with Lucifer's borrowed hazel eyes for a few minutes, their almost hypnotic quality made her break eye contact. They felt like they were staring into her soul and she couldn't help but wonder if Sam's eyes were like that or if it was just having Lucifer behind them made his eyes that way.  Arcadia had a feeling they were, but didn't want to test the fallen angel. Seriously? How would you do that: Hey, Lucifer, evil incarnate and general douche bag, can you let the human you're possessing take control for a second so we can stare into each other's eyes?  
  
        After the break of connection, they both shifted a little, unable to stay comfortable now that the bond was broken. Lucifer picked up the glass and took another sip, draining the cup. Arcadia looked back out the window.   
  
        "Um, why does the window show me the view from the top of the Marriott Tower in Detroit" she asked, breaking the silence.   
  
        Lucifer began coughing, nearly choking on his drink and Arcadia instinctively stepped forward to help him, remembering with embarrassment that he was  _Lucifer_  and that if he choked, that would be a good thing (Dean snorted at her mention of that fact and she gave him a dark look).  
  
        The cough soon became a rough laugh that smoothed out as the coughing died down. Lucifer was laughing so hard that he was nearly bent over.   
  
        "Ah..." he wheezed, catching his breath sharply. "That's what you see out the window?"  
  
        "Yes," Arcadia snapped. "It is. What's wrong with that?"  
  
        "Nothing, nothing," he said, still chuckling. "I just find it funny that a person so educated and well-traveled as you only sees the skyline of Detroit."  
          
        "I'm not well-traveled," Arcadia muttered, shifted in an embarrassed fashion. "The farthest I've ever gone away from home was the family vacation to Hawaii. And our plane got grounded so we had to stay in Colorado."  
  
        Lucifer snorted, turning his back to her and refilling his scotch glass. "The window," he told her as he poured one glass, then another. "Is enchanted. I had a witch who is particularly talented with travel spells enchant the window to show the person who is looking through it a place they long to go to."  
  
        He turned around again, walking over and handing her a drink from over what would have been the line dividing the floor in half. She took it, not even protesting, but not drinking from it. Lucifer returned to the desk and took a long drink from the glass, draining half of it. Arcadia watched him with both shock and disgust when he returned to the drink, nearly finishing it.   
  
        There was silence again, but only for a few moments because Arcadia took that time to think of how she could phrase her question for the fallen angel.   
  
        "What do you see?" she asked him.   
  
        Lucifer only gave her a confused look.   
  
        "In the window," she clarified.  
  
        "Oh..." he said, thinking about the question as he held the glass loosely in one hand. "Well, what do you think I see?" he asked Arcadia, smirking.   
  
        "Heaven," Arcadia said simply, not even having to think too hard about it.  
  
        The smile on the fallen angel's face fell, for lack of a better word. He began to look brooding, like he was planning on how he was going to punish someone. Arcadia's face began to fall too. Then his face turned to one of quiet approval.  
  
        "Did you know," he said softly. "That you are the first person to get it right? Out of all these demons, monsters, and allies, you are the first one to get it right on the first try?"  
  
        "No, I didn't," Arcadia said, giving him a surprised look with a cock of her head. "I would've thought that everyone would have known. You know, because of your story."  
  
        "No, they all think I see myself, sitting on a throne of bones, or gold," Lucifer said with a sigh. "Or that I'm back in Hell with my 'loyal' forces."  
  
        He stepped away from the desk and walked towards the window, staring out it was a strange look in his eyes. Longing.   
  
        "As you pointed out," Lucifer continued. "It would seem the obvious choice to most creatures."  
  
        He stared at the window a little longer, making Arcadia feel like she was intruding on something sacred.  
  
        Just as she was going to back towards the door, he started, nearly falling over and losing his breath. Arcadia rushed forward instinctively, grabbing his arm, but letting go almost instantly like she had been burned. She backed away from the heavily breathing man and watched him carefully, her muscles tense, ready to make a run for it if she had to.  
  
        But the eyes staring back at her were starkly different than the cold, piercing eyes she'd seen only moments before.  
  
        "Sam?" she asked carefully, not wanting to piss of Lucifer if it was still him in there.  
  
        "You?" he asked, looking at her with disbelieving eyes. "What are you still..." Sam broke off talking to start coughing. "Have I," he asked between coughs. "Been drinking whiskey?"  
  
        "Um, yes," she said, wincing. "Almost a whole bottle."  
  
        Sam groaned, leaning on the window sill with his head hanging between his arms. "Ugh..."  
  
        "Are you going to be okay?" she asked, stepping closer.  
  
        She didn't have to elaborate; Sam could see it all over her face exactly what she meant when he looked up and she saw that when he turned to face her.   
  
        Despite him being a good six inches taller than her, Arcadia could easily make eye contact with him and she was left breathless.  
  
        His eyes really were like that. Staring into her soul with a kaleidoscope of earth tones: rich ambers, pine green, lake blue, and gold.  
  
        "He's still there," Sam said quietly. "I can feel him. He's pissed and keeps trying to catch me off guard."  
  
        "Sam," Arcadia said quietly, coming back to the present and not wanting to ruin the moment. "I'm so, so sorry."  
  
        Sam didn't reply, just shut his eyes tightly  and had a look of intense concentration. He groaned, arching his back in pain and starting to twitch in his fingers.  
  
        "Sam?" she asked again, leaning towards the large man.   
  
        He gasped suddenly, letting go of the window sill and stumbling back into the desk. His knees buckled and Arcadia, who had stepped back at his movement, lunged forward and caught him under the shoulder, wrapping her arm as far across Sam's back as she could go and trying to help shoulder his huge weight. He groaned painfully and suddenly his complete body weight  was on her shoulders as she dragged him towards the couch.


	6. If I Can't Have You

       "I take it that you didn't get away," Dean said dryly.   
  
        Arcadia gave him a nasty look before she continued. 

* * *

 

 _This wasn't part of the deal_ , Lucifer's voice echoed in Sam's head as they walked. The fallen angel had only started to complain again five minutes ago, giving Sam a massive headache and a running commentary to combat with.   
  
         _I'm not trying to escape,_  Sam thought back, reminding him of their earlier conversation.  _She's the one pulling me along._  
  
         _You could stop this,_  Lucifer pointed out, starting to sound irritated.  
  
         _I couldn't stop her if I tried,_  Sam thought, unable to keep the smile of his face as he followed Arcadia through the thick woods surrounding the stronghold. Look, technically, I'm not breaking the deal because she was   
  
         _And this is why I don't make deals with humans,_  Lucifer grumbled, settling back into his corner of Sam's mind.   
  
        Sam mentally laughed as they started running. _This is why I wanted to be a lawyer. Loopholes are pretty fun to find.  
  
        _ _Very funny, hotshot,_  Lucifer retorted.  _How are you going to explain to her that I'm still here. Riding shotgun. Oh, and, did you forget? YOU ARE ONLY IN CONTROL FOR TODAY.  
  
        _Sam's head began to ache and throb as Lucifer yelled, but he didn't let it show on his face.  _She doesn't have to know.  
  
        And are you going to have to explain to her why she woke up back at MY stronghold tomorrow morning? No. I am, _Lucifer ranted, the din becoming more and more strong.  _I don't want to have to deal with that. SO TURN BACK!_  
  
        Sam outwardly winced as the yell reached a new pitch. Arcadia, who had just turned around, spotted the look and stopped running, walking closer to him.   
  
        "Sam, are you alright?" she asked, worriedly searching his face for the answer.  
  
        "Yeah, I just twisted my ankle a little while back," he muttered, gritting his teeth as Lucifer continued to scream at him.  
  
        "Are you going to be okay to keep moving?" she asked, glancing around the space they had paused in.   
  
        "I think so," Sam said, smiling weakly. "Just go on ahead. I'll catch up."  
  
        "I don't want to leave you out here," Arcadia said, glancing around again. "The demons might be here and we wouldn't even know it."  
  
        "Arcadia, I promise I'll be fine," Sam insisted, placing both hands on her shoulders. "Go on ahead and I'll catch up."  
  
        She made eye contact with him and seemed to be considering her options. Slowly, she stepped back, Sam's hands sliding off her shoulders as she turned and ran into the woods.   
  
         _She won't make it very far,_ Lucifer said smugly.   
  
         _I bet she will,_ Sam snipped back, a smirk playing on his lips.  _And then you'll be the upset one._

  
 _And if I'm right, then you're going to be so upset, aren't you, Sammy,_  Lucifer cooed.

  
         _Shut up,_ Sam felt the angel's presence recede in his mind and he ran ahead to catch up to Arcadia. She hadn't made it as far ahead as he thought she would have, but then again, he was running with a hunter's endurance and she was still a civilian. She briefly turned to gaze at him before looking back ahead at the trail. 

 _So close, and yet so far away from your brother. I bet he thinks you are rotting in Hell - that you're dead,_ Lucifer mocked. 

 _Shut up,_ Sam ordered, throwing up a mental wall to block out the angel's mocking. 

        "I think there is a river up ahead," he said, trying to take his mind off of the angel in his head. "We can make the demons lose our scents there."

         "Sounds good," she agreed, not turning around. 

         They walked in silence for another minute or two before Arcadia spoke again. 

          "Is it weird?" she asked curiously. 

          "What is?" Sam asked, ducking to avoid a low-hanging branch. 

          "Having Lucifer in you," she clarified, holding back another branch for him. 

            _I could make a very sexual joke here,_ Lucifer slyly said.  _But we wouldn't want that, would we?_

"It's..." Sam began, then sighed. "Well, it's like  __being strapped to a comet. And now and then you get a chance to look around and everything's different from when you were last there."

             _Better not tell her that you can see everything happening to you,_ Lucifer hissed.  _All the people I'm killing with your hands, the blood dripping off our fingertips..._

        "And the worst part is that you have to agree to be a vessel," Sam admitted, bitterness flooding his tone. "So I let the devil in. All because I thought I could control it. Now the world's ending and it's all my fault."

 _Ooh, finally coming clean, are we,_  Lucifer hissed. 

        "I'm sorry," she said softly, ducking under a branch. 

        "What?" Sam asked in surprise, pausing where he was. 

        "I said that I'm sorry," she repeated, turning to look at him even though her face was mostly obscured by the branch. "That should never have happened to you."

        For the first time since he'd relinquished control, Lucifer remained silent, leaving Sam alone with his own thoughts. He had to be one lucky man to be running off and stuck in the middle of the apocalypse with probably the only person who would be sympathetic to the guy who'd kick-started the end of the world. However, the moment of peace was short-lived when he heard a loud shout from behind them.

        "Astin, you take the right flank, I'll take the right!" Meg's piercing voice screeched. "Don't let them get to the river!"

        "Go!" Sam hissed, starting off down the path. "Just keep going, no matter what happens!"

        She took off at a run and bolted through the woods, weaving and dodging trees even as the demons pursuing them picked up with their screaming and orders. Sam focused on the trail, trying to keep his eyes off her ass as they worked on escaping. Their brief respite ended when they came to the bank of the river and found themselves on a small beach with nowhere to go. The sounds of demons getting closer made Sam frantically look around as he turned to keep his back to the water. Arcadia followed suit and stared out into the dark woods. 

        "Some angel mojo would be helpful right about now," she whispered, going fully back to back with him. 

        "Gonna try, but no guarantees," he replied, squeezing his eyes shut and putting out a reach for Lucifer's aura. 

         _Oh now you want my help,_ Lucifer grumbled.  _What can I do for you, Wonder Boy._

 _Get us the hell out of here,_ Sam told him.

         _And what good will that do for me?_

_I'll... I'll give up my day early._

_... Fine. But I'm taking us back to the fortress._

_But-!_

_Not buts. Just be glad Meg won't be ripping you and darling Arcadia limb from limb._

_... fine._

* * *

Sam's eyes snapped open and he shifted around, rolling his neck and shoulders. 

        "Sam, are we going to be getting out of here," she whispered, nails digging into her palms as she tried to stay calm. 

        "It's not Sam anymore, sweetie," he said, pulling her around roughly to face him. 

        She squeaked quietly and stared in horror at him as he smirked at her and didn't let go. 

        "A deal's a deal," he muttered before everything melted into blackness. 

* * *

        When the color and light returned, they weren't by the river anymore. Instead, they were back in the office room that Arcadia had been locked in originally. As soon as they landed, he let go of her and pushed her back from him like she had some kind of contagion. She stumbled slightly, regaining her footing and glaring at him. 

        "What happened to Sam!" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. 

        "He's off in la la land," Lucifer said with a chuckle as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. "I sent him off to a mental hunt with his brother. Keeps him occupied until I need to speak with him again. However, he's going to be offline for longer than usual."

        "Why?" she demanded next. 

        "Besides the obvious, helping you try to escape," he explained, leaning on the wall. "He and I made a deal."

        "What kind of deal?"

        "The kind that let's me control the vessel however I see fit," he replied, shrugging. "It's less of a deal and more of a wager, to be honest. And the prize is going to be so sweet..."

        He took a slow sip of the whiskey and sighed.

        "Look, I know you're freaked out," he said, trying to be soothing. "But I just want to talk.'

        "How do I know that?" she snapped, taking a seat on the sofa. 

        "Because if I wasn't, you'd be dead already," he stated with a shrug.

        "Fine, what do you want to talk about," she grumbled, relaxing back into the seat. 

        "What I brought up in our last meeting," he said simply. "About Sophia."

         "If you think I'm going to say yes, you're out of your mind," she said angrily, crossing her arms. 

         "Well, if that's how you feel," he said with a sigh, raising his right hand and posing as if about to snap his fingers. "Then it appears we've come to an impasse."

        "And we're going to stay there," she announced, storming past him and 

         "Oh come on, Arcadia," he whined, smirking and grabbing her arm as she passed. "You know as well as I do that every king needs a queen. Lucifer and Sophia, Arcadia and Sam. It's meant to be, sweetheart."

         "You can go fuck yourself," she snarled, ripping her arm out of his grasp.

        "My, my, what a temper," he chuckled, lifting his hand once more. "Well, if you aren't going to be receptive-"

        He snapped his fingers and they teleported out of the room, reappearing in what looked like a jail cell. 

        "Looks like I'll have to leave you to stew about it," he continued, grinning at her and then vanishing out of sight.

        She gaped at the spot where he'd stood and tried to control her speeding up breathing as she looked around. A small cot was in the corner and a sink opposite it. A single light hung from the ceiling. She didn't think it would get much worse until the light went out and she was left in the pitch black with nothing but the sound of her own heartbeat to remind her that she was still alive.


End file.
